


Sapling

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Ficlet, Hand Jobs, M/M, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sulu helps Chekov deal with a vengeful alien plant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sapling

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Hikaru’s already examined the preliminary data in his spare time, so when they beam down, he’s as ahead of the game as Nurse Chapel and Lieutenant Kerasus are. They’re in a quiet part of the galaxy, quiet enough not to require the top helmsman on duty all the time, and he’s been extra good of late, and when he requested to join the landing party for personal reasons—these spindly, vine-like plants will fit in _excellently_ with his collection—he knew the captain would say yes. And of course, the captain did. So Hikaru finds himself the ranking officer of the little survey party, even ahead of the science personnel and botanists that are actually _supposed_ to be here.

Pavel’s just the whipping boy. They needed more hands, and ensigns can’t say no. So Pavel, the most under-informed and least equipped to deal with any of the information their tricorders are processing, is currently weaving past the south side of the shuttle, announcing loudly, “Ah, yes, I recognize zhese—obwiously related to a common flower found in Russia.” Obviously. Hikaru catches himself grinning fondly, but a few of the others are already rolling their eyes and bee-lining elsewhere. It’s going to be one of those days. 

Part of Hikaru’s resident fondness manifests itself in protectiveness, and he automatically matches his direction to Pavel’s, keeping not that far behind, just in case. They’re in a patch of almost knee-high brambles, thickly twisted with greenish roots and lax spindles and bright, open flowers that remind Hikaru vaguely of Orion water lilies. He knows for a fact there’s nothing even remotely similar on Earth, but that’s no reason to crush Pavel’s fun. 

Pavel’s crushing leaves. It’s foolish, of course, and foolhardy, but he’s young, and he doesn’t carefully wind through the flowers like Hikaru does—he stomps on by, proclaiming, “Perhaps an alien culture was trying to cultiwate Russian-like gardens; a wise choice, awter all. Zhere is nozhing so beautiwul as fresh—”

And there, he’s done it. 

In the blink of an eye, a plant’s shooting up, the flower crushed right under his foot and releasing a loud, piercing squeal into the air. It’s nothing compared to the shocked gasp Pavel gives—an array of thick vines have swept into the air, grabbing him by the waist and jerking him to the ground—his knees buckle and his tricorder slips from his hand—he’s pulled to the earth, arms just barely catching himself in time. Behind them, the landing party calls out, but Pavel, after a second of nervous noises, shouts hastily over his shoulder, “I am fine! Fine!” And then he glances up at Hikaru, his eyes nearly watering as he whimpers quietly, “ _Sulu_ , help me.” 

Unlike certain ensigns, Hikaru read the report thoroughly. He knows the plants aren’t deadly, and he waves back to Chapel to signal that he’s got it under control. He gets carefully down on his knees beside his trembling crewman and places his own tricorder aside. Pavel’s sitting on his ass, still on the flower, while the vines thoroughly hold him down. There’re now several of them wrapped around his thighs, squeezing just enough to make indents in Pavel’s lean flesh, but Pavel doesn’t seem to be in pain. Just embarrassed. Supremely, incredibly embarrassed. His face is red right up to the points of his ears, and he’s making a continuous whining noise, something like a dog that’s been swatted on the nose. Hikaru pats his back lightly and whispers, “It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s got my... my...” he trails off, but Hikaru can see. The plant’s made its way into Pavel’s pants, the standard issue material now pulled out so far that the seams are threatening to break. He crushed its delicate spores, and it’s paying him back in kind, trying to take his delicates and his... ‘spores.’

“I know,” Hikaru mumbles. He rubs a soothing circle into Pavel’s back. In a way, the plant’s complex actions are remarkable, more than noteworthy, worthy of joining his collections. Later. For now, he checks over his shoulder to make sure the others are far enough away; obviously, Hikaru’s the only one Pavel wanted close enough to witness this. Most are around the other side of the shuttle, and none are within hearing range, unless they shout. Business as usual—ensigns get up to trouble all the time. 

Ensigns with big mouths get in even worse trouble with even less help, although Hikaru would never leave Pavel stranded in trouble. Pavel’s hands are wringing uselessly in front of him, as if afraid to touch anything, and Hikaru intercepts them to take one in his. He squeezes reassuringly and asks, “Do you trust me?”

Pavel blinks at him, looking, perhaps, a little confused. Maybe even a little worried. But he mumbles a thickly accented, “Yes.”

“Good.” And Hikaru shuffles up closer, one arm protectively around Pavel’s back while the other releases Pavel’s hand, instead dropping to Pavel’s stomach. Even without having read the report, Hikaru’s got a natural green thumb. He’s been dealing with odd plants all his life, and he’s sure he can handle this. First, he’ll have to get a hold of the most troublesome parts.

He slips down to Pavel’s pants, already held open by the vines. His fingertips dip beneath the hem, and Pavel gasps, “Hikaru—”

Hikaru stops instantly and catches Pavel’s heavy-lidded gaze. But then Pavel licks his lips and nods: he does _trust_ Hikaru, after all.

So Hikaru keeps going. Pavel shuts his eyes and leans over, pressing his face into Hikaru’s neck, maybe hiding out of shame. It could be both for having Hikaru in his pants and for getting himself into this mess. Hikaru lets his fingers trace the arch of the plant, hyper aware of Pavel’s skin against the side of his hand, soft and warm. He reaches the dark tufts of hair at Pavel’s crotch, and he can’t reach any lower without ruining Pavel’s pants, but he can tell the thing’s effectively circling Pavel’s cock and balls. Poor baby. The thing tightens under Hikaru’s touch, and Pavel hisses in pain. Hikaru mutters, “Shh,” again, and, “It’s going to be okay. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Will my... you know... be?” It sounds like he means to be joking, but it doesn’t come out with any humour. 

“You’ll both be just fine.” Hikaru will make sure of it. “I know how to make it leave.”

One of Pavel’s hands falls onto Hikaru’s leg, gripping it for support, and Hikaru glances down and tries to hide his smile at the show of intimate faith. Just fine. 

He can’t work in the dark, so he first unzips Pavel’s pants, surprised when Pavel doesn’t protest in the slightest. Apparently, wanting the thing off him outranks any further embarrassment. It’d be better if Hikaru could push the pants off completely, but then the rest of the landing party would see; at the very least, things need to look okay from behind. So he works with what he can, leaning over Pavel’s shoulder to inspect what he’s left with. A bumpy vine’s wrapped once around the base of Pavel’s cock, behind his balls, then again in front of them, the dulled tip ending just short of the veiled head. Those around his thighs are secondary, obviously, to this central one, firmly holding onto his package so very precisely, dotted more and coloured a more vivid green. For a minute, Hikaru just takes stock of the situation, not missing his fill of Pavel’s pink cock, fair sized and pretty, right in front of him. Pavel’s balls are small and tight, nearly hairless, and there’s a slight curve to his shaft. When Hikaru pictured getting this view for the first time, he imagined the circumstances somewhat different. 

This’ll have to do, and he murmurs belatedly, unable to stop himself, “No underwear, Ensign?”

Pavel turns even redder and declines to answer. So Hikaru harmlessly imagines that he’s done it on purpose, because he likes being a little tease, knows and likes that Hikaru stares at his ass whenever he bends over his station. He knew he’d be on this away mission with Hikaru. Hikaru chuckles and teases, “I suppose we’ll have to talk about you being naughty later.”

Pavel nudges him with one shoulder as if to reprimand him. Hikaru just keeps grinning. At least Pavel’s not too horrified for their usual teasing.

For the first few minutes, Hikaru just traces the plant with his fingers, checking where it is, swirling over it, and then he lets go to examine his PADD. He searches through previous data—there’s nothing like _this_ , of course, but there’s enough to extrapolate motive. Well, ‘motive’ in a sense. Some plants have basic instincts. Hikaru considers mentioning Earth’s own venus flytrap, doubtless a Russian inhabitant in Pavel’s head, before deciding a carnivorous plant might not be the best source of comfort. He puts the PADD down again when he’s sure of the best course of action, and Pavel’s groaned a pleading, “Sulu...”

Then his hand returns to Pavel’s cock, and he gentle nudges the tip of the vine aside. It loosens just enough for his fingers to slip under it. He rests his thumb on the head of Pavel’s cock, the side of his hand nudged just along the other coil encircling Pavel’s shaft, just in front of his balls. Pavel looks at Hikaru questioningly, opens his mouth, and shuts it again. Hikaru draws little circles around Pavel’s tip with his thumb, and Pavel doesn’t manage to stop his moan in time.

“ _Sulu_...”

Hikaru stops his ministrations, and Pavel grits his teeth and hisses, “N-not that I don’t... what are you _doing_?”

Trying to lighten the mood, Hikaru recounts, “I thought you said you trusted me.”

“Wizh plants,” Pavel answers just as coyly, oscillating between a scowl and a grin. “Not to... to...”

“Jerk you off?” Hikaru suggests. “It’ll make it let go. Should I keep going?” Pavel nods just a little too fast.

Hikaru’s hand starts pumping gently up and down in the limited space it has. The tip of the vine spurts a glob of slick, gooey liquid, and Hikaru pumps faster, watching more secrete out along the vine’s edges. Pavel looks down at it in shock, but Hikaru simply scoops it up and uses it for lubrication; plant secretions are perfectly normal. In this case, perfectly helpful. He squeezes Pavel’s cock once in appreciation, promptly setting in to work it properly. Pavel’s hips buck up into his hands just once, then freeze, and he looks at Hikaru again, licking his lips in pause. 

He tries to talk, but his breath just hitches as Hikaru squeezes him particularly hard, fondling him right. His cheeks are still a bright pink, pupils growing dilated, lips moist from being chewed on and played with. He clutches at Hikaru just a little tighter, leaning in. He always looks scrumptious to Hikaru, but this is the worst Hikaru’s seen him yet. He mumbles, “How will... zhis will help?”

Hikaru nods. He shifts his angle slightly, moving more behind Pavel to mask Pavel’s trembling, and he rests his chin on Pavel’s shoulder, content with this picturesque view. Pavel’s cock is hardening beautifully in hand, filling thickly even within its restraints, giving way to Hikaru’s attentions. To answer Pavel’s question, Hikaru explains: “You stepped on its spores, you know—that’s why it grabbed you. If you give it some seed back, it’ll likely let you go.” Pavel’s head jerks around to him, eyes widening in terror. 

Hikaru assumes Pavel’s hesitant to give his ‘seed’ to an alien plant, but what he mutters is, “Likely?” He clutches tighter to Hikaru’s leg. “Just in case, could it be cut loose?”

“Well,” Hikaru concedes, “it’s able to squirm, so it might be tricky, but if you’re alright with a knife or phaser fire that close to your bits—”

“Nyet, nyet, zhis iz fine.” Pavel groans a second later, and his head lolls back on Hikaru’s shoulder; Hikaru’s doubled his efforts in the pursuit of keeping Pavel calm. He probably could cut it loose, and would have, if Pavel seemed at all like he would’ve preferred that option, but something in Pavel’s eyes says otherwise, and Hikaru trusts their bond. ...And Hikaru knows Pavel well enough that he’s positive Pavel would have a few choice words if this solution were unacceptable. After a bit, the tip of the plant swings loose, leaving him free to give Pavel a proper hand job, and Pavel’s thighs tense and his body grinds back into Hikaru’s as it goes, Pavel’s pretty lips opening to moan, and he lets out a breathy, “ _Sulu_...”

Hikaru always did like the way his name sounds in Russian. He resists the heavy urge to turn and kiss this all better. One step at a time. Although, this does feel sort of like he skipped a few steps or went backwards—he should probably have started at kissing before he went to jerking Pavel off...

But there’s nothing for it now. He corkscrews his hand down Pavel’s cock and braces Pavel’s taut ass with his own hips, moving over enough that his other hand can snake down to join. He cups Pavel’s balls suddenly, and Pavel arches up and gasps, while Hikaru chuckles and reminds him, “Not so loud—you want the others to hear?” So Pavel clamps his mouth shut, teeth grit, and buries his face back in Hikaru’s neck, while Hikaru fondles his sac and strokes his cock. 

Hikaru drinks in the fruity scent of Pavel’s shampoo and all the fluttering noises, and he murmurs in Pavel’s ear, “Chekov, I need you to come for me...” Pavel sucks in a breath and quietly cries out against his neck, clearly close. Pavel’s hips are now rocking into Hikaru’s hand, unable to help themselves, and Hikaru lets it happen, stokes and twists and fingers Pavel’s cock, until it’s all too much for the young ensign to take. 

Pavel shoves his face so hard into Hikaru that he nearly falls over, skin stifling the scream. Pavel’s cock bursts in his hand, spurting out hot, white jets of sticky cum. They splatter the ground, and Hikaru points Pavel’s dick at the right angle, letting the last remnants dribble onto the long petals below. As if on cue, the vines hesitate, and then slowly, while Pavel’s still trembling and coming down, they begin to recede. 

Pavel sighs in relief, one hand rising to rake nervously through his hair, and they both watch the tendrils creep away. Hikaru drops his hands from Pavel’s flagging cock, but he stays where he is, blanketing Pavel from the others and the outside world. Pavel shivers and looks up at him: a lovely mess. 

Mouth opening, Pavel says nothing. If possible, he flushes even darker, and he looks away to shove himself back into his pants, zipping them back up despite the damp patch that soaks through. He tries vainly to pull his tunic down, to no effect. He mutters, “Zhank you.”

“No problem.”

Pavel looks back at him and leans in so fast that Hikaru doesn’t have time to move. He’s pecked on the cheek, and then Pavel’s springing up, scrambling for his PADD as though everything’s perfectly normal. Hikaru picks his own PADD up more leisurely and suggests, after Pavel’s first step, “Perhaps we should take you back to the shuttle and clean you up first?” Preferably now, while the others won’t be there to see. He likes to think that Pavel, like this, is just for him. 

Pavel nods emphatically and mumbles, “Yes, yes, good idea.”

Pavel takes Hikaru by the hand and walks towards the shuttle, and as they near it, Hikaru asks in a friendly chuckle, “Do the plants in Russia do _that_?” It’s his nice way of suggesting Pavel keep his mouth in check from now on, even though Hikaru knows that’ll never happen. ...And it’d take half Pavel’s charm away, anyway.

Pavel lets go of his hand to shove him in the arm, grinning impishly: back to normal.

As they climb up the ramp of the shuttle, Hikaru behind to admire the view, he starts, “So, about that lack of underwear...”


End file.
